Sherry's former colleagues creatively included her in this year's office Christmas party by bringing a brightly decorated bag containing, among other things, a copy of the 2010 Infant Toddler Committee calendar. This calendar project is one on which Sherry had worked for several years, so it was heartening for her to see it continue in grand fashion. She was cheered by the inclusion of some of the children with whom she had worked. The bag also contained a magnificent white elephant present, a superlative in the tradition of the party. It defies simple description. It's pink. It plugs in and lights up. It most closely resembles a handbag with a glass bead handle. This thing was destined to mark this year's party.
I opened the card and read to Sherry each of the messages the staff members had written. She appreciatively whispered each name back to me after I read the signatures for the messages.
Grief snuck up from behind and whacked me alongside the head. The last item I pulled from the bag were photos of the staff at the party. These photos reminded me of how much fun we have had at this party over the years--years marked by who ended up with the best white elephant presents or who did what with them. For Sherry and me the last couple of years affirmed for us a bright future for infants and toddlers in Idaho knowing the enthusiasm, vitality, and competence of the new wave of teachers, therapists, home visitors, and social workers.
Nevertheless, grief struck. I could not hold back deep sobs. All I could think of was that I wanted my wife back. I wanted our elegantly simple life back. I felt sorry; sorry that I hadn't fully recognized the wonder of our life together as it was unfolding. It's not that I didn't appreciate these days, but I felt sorry that I hadn't cherished enough, honored enough my dearest, who genuinely and deeply loves me just as I am. As I wiped away tears I recognized how self indulgent all of this was. It was me that I grieved for. I was feeling sorry for myself.
If I let them, dark clouds will block the Sun. Today is the bright day to cherish my love. If I don't I will have missed the opportunity to appreciate our life together even though it isn't what it was. After all, today is the only day I have.
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Hello Doug, I just caught up with your most recent posts. This white elephant in the room stands out. To see your grief show up so vividly struck my heart. I didn't see anythin indulgent about it. Your grief needs outing. Your ability to care for Sherry will only increase as you care for your self, too. To see grief as an old friend who sneaks up when we are least suspecting it gives us perspective, as your last paragraph states. To the both of you, you are always in our hearts, thoughts and prayers. Thank you for sharing your world so transparently as you go forward. Love, Steve
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